Hurricane
by takealookinsideabook
Summary: Gerard Way is one of the cities most well-known brothel owners. His business earns heaps of money and nobody questions him, but when he purchases a certain Frank Iero, who becomes his gorgeous sex slave, will his world be turned upside down?
1. Chapter 1

Gerard's at the bar, waiting for his drink when he sees the boy and he can't help but stare. He's at a distance that he can't really make him out clearly, but he looks stunning to Gerard's eyes. His smiling face is framed by brown hair that curls around his ears and Gerard wants to run his hands through it, pull and twist to see what sounds would emerge from the boys plump lips. He's like nothing Gerard's ever seen in his life, and he considers approaching him before he realises that the arm on the boy's waist belongs to Brendon Urie.

This wasn't just some regular meet-up with men with big names and lots of money. They had big names for the wrong reasons, and earned too much money from other young, now souless and used bodies. Gerard was one of them, but he atleast thought his lifestyle - along with his workers' - was not as stereotypically disgusting as people made out. He treated his employees with respect, he didn't know what they had gone through when he bought them from some other scumbag.

He ponders the thought for a minute, wondering if the boy had been hurt before Urie had claimed him, or at any point after.

Gerard would have to ask Mikey about Brendon later because Mikey knew everything about everyone. Maybe he knew something about the boy.

* * *

><p>Gerard's circling, waiting for the boy to move away from Brendon so he can move in and make an offer. He'd watched the boy more, how he moved and how he spoke, and Gerard had decided that by the end of the night, the boy would belong to him.<p>

The boy is stood beside Brendon, eyes occasionally glancing around the crowd, but mainly focused on the table infront of where Urie is sat with a cigarette held between his lips. Brendon gestures with a wave of his hand and the boy leans down for a moment whilst he's spoken to before nodding and disappearing. Gerard gut twists in triumph and he steadily pushes through the crowd, slowing as he reached their table.

"Way, nice to see you," Brendon greets him, faking a smile as he waves for Gerard to sit down. Gerard just nods and sits across from him, lighting a cigarette of his own. They speak about the latest sales, which really sounds pathetic in Gerard's head.

"So, who's been hanging off your arm all night?" Gerard asks, smirking slightly. Brendon grins, waggling his eyebrows and Gerard forces out laughter. Anything to sugar-coat the boy's way to him.

"That would be Frank, I've had him under wraps for a while," Brendon sounds smug and Gerard wants to smack the smile off of his face. He keeps his calm though.

"Is he for sale?" Brendon raises an eyebrow, eyes slightly narrowed as he examines Gerard.

After a few moments he finally answers, "Depends how much you're willing to pay," and crosses his arms over his chest.

Gerard leans forward in his chair. He's a little too smug to hide it in his smile.


	2. Chapter 2

Frank's fingers scratch down Gerard's back as he moves against him, blunt, bitten down nails leaving faint lines. He gasps, jaw moving but no sound coming out. The feeling of their bodies crammed against eachother, desperate as they move and try to grab hold of something - friction, heat, _anything_ - was almost too much. His hands slip on Gerard's shoulders, palms sliding on the sweat, and end up working their way into his hair as they pull eachother in for a biting kiss.

Their actions slow, now less frantic, the pace of their hips calming. Their pants fill the room, breaths quick and sharp as they fumble at eachothers bodies. Gerard's hands move from Frank's hips, one sliding over his chest as the other moved downwards. Frank whimpers with want, connecting their mouths again until they break away for breath. Gerard mouths at Frank's neck, rubbing his hands across his hips before biting at the soft skin under his jaw. Frank shudders and Gerard feels his hips jerk under his hands.

"Christ, _fuck_," Gerard grunts, one arm tight around Frank's back as the other jacked him off. He lets Frank slump against him and breathe heavily into his neck. Gerard groans when Frank begins to bite and suck at his collarbone, hand tightening on the boy's dick.

He never imagined Frank would be like this. When he first saw him he thought that, obviously, the boy was fucking gorgeous and even more so naked, but _Jesus Christ_ Gerard never thought he'd be getting Frank off to get himself off. In Gerard's mind, it would've been Frank doing everything in his right mind to make Gerard come, not the other way around.

He's snapped out of his thoughts by Frank cursing in his ear and a long whine following it, then warmth suddenly covering his stomach. He stares down at it for a moment before he realises that Frank just came. Oh.

He replays the sound in his head and shudders, Frank coming was a sound he could listen to on repeat.

* * *

><p>The first thing Gerard learns about the boy is that he's quiet.<p>

The first day he's at Gerard's apartment, which is like a two minute drive from the brothel, he stays in bed most of the day - Gerard gave him the spare room, because a) he needs a place for his little-to-no belongings and b) if he didn't want to sleep with Gerard after sex, he didn't have to - or just naps on the sofa. He doesn't even spare a glance at the tv hung on the wall, and Gerard figures he's not really used to having the option of such privileges. Even if it was just a screen to watch crappy reality shows on.

He watches Frank sleep, stood in the doorway to the living area with a mug of coffee held between his hands. The boy seems at his most relaxed, his body completely spread out on the couch. Gerard's not bothered by it at all.

He wanted Frank to be comfortable here, especially since here would be where he would spend most of his time. Gerard hadn't taken him to the brothel yet, so he still had that to think about. He wasn't nervous, far from it, just a little worried about Frank. He was a shy boy, he obviously didn't like being around a lot of new people. Hopefully he would just stick with Gerard or actually find someone else to talk to. Either way, Gerard didn't mind, he just hoped Frank would feel at home.

* * *

><p>He calls Mikey later that day and asks him about Urie's background. At first he was a little hesitant to leave Frank at the aparment on his own considering it was his first day, but figured leaving a note would be okay. Plus, Gerard only wanted to check up on everyone and then speak to Mikey.<p>

When he gets to the brothel everything seems to be in order, there's half-naked clients being transferred around as per usual so he heads straight to his office. There's a few papers scattered on his desk, but nothing else.

"Slow day," Gerard murmurs to himself, settling into his chair. He scans the papers for anything important, turns out they're just a few reminders for payments he needs to make, he can sort them out later, before scrunching them up and tossing them into the bin.

Gerard never had money problems. Not even as a child, his parents both came from rich families so they never had financial struggles. Marriage problems maybe, but even then the divorce was easy. Gerard was too young to remember what it was like and his mother was pregnant with Mikey when the papers were confirmed and his parents went their seperate ways. He figures it was for the best anyway.

When his father died he and Mikey split the inheritance, and then gradually put it into the family business. The brothel was from his father's side and his mother had never been accepting of it. Gerard's grandfather had told him that some people came with a price that other people were willing to pay for their own greed, and so Gerard was given the brothel. He felt he had no other choice but to honour his father's wishes and continue the business.

At first he was ashamed of himself, how could he continue such a disgusting business? How could he let these men buy and sell young men and women for their own pleasure? So he started purchasing his own, and he kept them. He gave them food, clothes and a home. He kept them safe and gave them respect. Hell, he even gave them money if they needed it. Gerard was an all-round generous man and no-one could say otherwise.

When he finally calls Mikey, they only speak for a few minutes.

"I know the name," Mikey says, voice wary. "Why?"

"I need some information about him," Gerard keeps it casual, as if Mikey couldn't see through him anyway.

"Hm, I'll see what I can do," He sounds bored, he probably is, so Gerard says his thanks before hanging up.

* * *

><p>He gets back to his apartment after it's dark, around half-past ten, and the hallway is dark. He dumps his bag by the door and hangs his jacket up before quietly treading to the living room. He expects Frank to be on the sofa still, Gerard imagines he probably slept most of the day anyway, but he's not. Gerard shrugs it off, flicking off the lights as he heads for his bedroom.<p>

He takes a quick shower and then climbs into bed. He lays on his back for a while, letting his eyes trail aimlessly as his thoughts wandered. He wondered what Frank had done all day, if he'd eaten or drunk anything. He hoped the boy had, he didn't want him looking any more frail than he already did.

Gerard sighs, turning onto his side and closing his eyes. Tomorrow, he would take Frank to the brothel and he needed his sleep. Not only did he have work to do anyway, he also had to make sure the boy didn't get himself into any trouble.


	3. Chapter 3

Frank never expected his new master to be so... nice. It was weird and a little frightening - having to wait for the moment when Mr Way would change - but he really was quite glad. He wasn't sure if owners got any worse than Mr Urie, but he honestly didn't want to find out.

Mr Way was quieter and more reserved than he seemed, but Frank had no problems with that. If the guy didn't want to speak to him, Frank wasn't going to question it. Not that he had any right to anyway.

It's a little odd to Frank. Just the little things like Mr Way asking if he was okay with what they were doing or waking him up with a soft kiss to his neck. It was odd being treated like a human being, not a rag doll.

He lets the thought run around his head before deciding that Mr Way was probably sweetening him up for when he turned into another asshole, like every other brothel owner.

Frank sighs as Mr Way shifts beside him. Frank had gotten up in the night and crawled into Way's bed, and Gerard had just blinked blearily at him before securing an arm around his waist. Frank forgot about his nightmare and fell asleep in minutes.

Frank prides himself in trusting no-one but himself, but he can't help but feel like Mr Way was actually a kind person that cared about him. It's a stupid thought, and he knows this because he's had his fair share of owners and he knows better. He's experienced the worst, he should know better than to think of trusting the first Master to ever show him genuine affection.

But that's just it; genuine affection.

That's always been a problem for Frank. The first person who didn't treat him like total scum was the person he put all his trust in. He knows now that the higher they build you, the further you fall. He let them spoil him with kisses and what he thought was love, but it was greed. They knew that Frank would be convinced by their 'love' and they could get what they wanted: pleasure.

He glares at the ceiling for a moment. He always knew how to think about stupid shit.

"What'd the ceiling do this time?"

Frank looks at Gerard, a carefully neutral expression on his face. The man raises an eyebrow, but smiles in a _please laugh? _kind of way.

"I was kidding, you know. You looked upset, so." Gerard half-shrugs, fiddling with the sheets between his fingers and Frank feels like a bit of an asshole.

"You're just so nice," Frank says. "It's weird," Gerard frowns at that, giving him a questioning glance. "I didn't mean to sound rude, sorry." Neither of them say anything for a few minutes before Frank mutters, "No-one's ever cared enough to ask for my opinion on something."

Gerard sighs. He's explained this to people before, and he still does nearly every day.

"You're a human being, Frank, you deserve your own views and to be treated with respect," Gerard smiles again and Franks stares back before he starts laughing. High-pitched, girlish giggling erupts from the boy and Gerard never wants it to stop.

"Jesus Christ, that's the best one yet, my God," He lets out another flourish of giggles before he settles. His chest still shakes with silent laughter though.

Respect. What bullshit, Frank thinks. He knew that this was the sugar coating, the cherry sweetness on top before everything went to shit. Or the usual routine that Frank had come so accustomed to.

He was waiting for Gerard to begin shouting or the familiar feel of a palm somehwre, leaving a stinging, red hand print.

It doesn't come.

"I wouldn't even think of laying a hand on you," Gerard says, like he can read Frank's mind. "Not in any way that could harm you. Even if I am using you for my own pleasures, I'm not going to force you to do anything, ever. And I'd at least hope you got something good from it too." Gerard's voice is soft, but serious as he practically breaks every rule Frank's ever known.

_"I'm this for myself, my needs, Frankie, not yours."_

_"Punishments are varied, but I'm sure a tester won't hurt."_

He flinches as he remembers and Gerard notices.

"I'm not used to people actually caring. Mr Urie would hit me because he liked the contrast on my skin." Frank's eyebrows inch together in a frown and his bottom lip trembles slightly.

All the while, Gerard watches the boy explain his time with Urie, lips a thin line. He couldn't even begin to think of a sane reason why anyone would want to hurt Frank. The boy was pretty small, and so fragile.

"Sorry," Frank mumbles, scratching the side of his neck awkwardly. Gerard smiles reassuringly at him before rolling over.

"C'mon, get up and shower, we've got places to be and I want to know if you can look any more gorgeous than you do right now," Gerard grins at Frank and definitely doesn't miss the way the boy blushes brightly.


	4. Chapter 4

When they finally make it to the brothel - after lingering in the shower because apparently Gerard just couldn't get enough - Frank can only stare because, holy shit, from outside it looks like a fucking manor house. It's huge.

"Wait till you see the inside," Gerard mutters, grinning when Frank rolls his eyes.

They travel to the main room in silence, Frank following in Way's shadow slightly. He was the owned, after all. The dim hall from the tall front doors leads up into a large room, ceiling towering above them as beams crawled across to keep it from crashing down on them. Long windows, currently shadowed by drapes, stretch across the wall next to the door they enter from, metal frames spiraling around the corners covered with bacteria, but it merely blends in, decorating it even.

Frank's mouth hangs open slightly. "Holy shit," Gerard laughs beside him, before they're left in almost silence. If Frank listens hard enough, he can hear the muffled sounds of movement and voices. He frowns for a moment, before he realises - sooner than he'd care to admit - that it's the sound of sex.

Frank glances around, biting his lip. It's not that he hasn't heard the sounds before - if anything, they were far too familiar - he just thought that they wouldn't follow him here. He supposes it was too much to ask for.

Moving quickly through the main room, Gerard's voice echoes into the corners. "You get used to it all, after a little while. I mean, I know you've probably heard it all anyway," He spares Frank an apologetic glance over his shoulder as they pass through a doorway to his office. "But it's not exactly pleasing to hear, I really do understand that,"

Frank shrugs. "I'd rather just settle with having to hear it then see it, I was getting a little bored with seeing dicks pretty much all day," He doesn't look at Gerard as he says it, but he hears the quiet, but surprised sounds he makes. Gerard clears his throat before laughing, shaking his head as he grins at Frank. Frank lets a small smile pass back.

* * *

><p>Gerard's office is an average size, not too big - not too small. His desk is towards the far wall, littered with papers and empty mugs and a laptop stationed upon the dark, wooden surface. Against the opposite wall stands a filing cabinet which has a coffee machine stood ontop, which explains all the coffee-stained mugs.<p>

Frank stands in the doorway awkwardly, unsure what to do as Gerard shuffles a few papers on his desk as he skim-reads them. He glances down at his clothes, frowning at the scuffed shoes, the sole had slowly been ripping itself off for the past couple months. His jeans were ruined, the knees split open and they practically hung off his hips from the weight he'd steadily lost over the years. His shirt hem was loose and the threads had been picked out while ago.

Basically, he looked like shit.

He unconciously wraps his arms around himself, shrinking back slightly. Fuck, he hates this - he hates feeling so ugly.

* * *

><p>When Frank is introduced to Gerard's main employees, they greet him with warm smiles and soft words and Frank has never been so grateful. He stiffens whenever they pat him on the back, or hug him too tightly, but it's the best welcome he's ever recieved. Gerard even stays at his side as they pass onto each person, his voice gentle as he introduces them.<p>

They're at the end of the line of people when a door across the room opens and a face he never thought he'd see again appears.

"Jamia?" Frank breathes, unable to believe she was really here.

"Oh my God," She chokes, running across the room to almost tackle him in a hug. They cling to each other, and Frank melts into her. "Frankie, oh God, Frankie, baby," She's clutching at his shoulders, squeezing his cheeks and smiling as the tears slip over her own cheeks. The sniffles of other women can be heard around them, most of them being friends of Jamia.

"Ja-Jamia," Frank stutters, burying his head into her shoulder and letting the water run wild from his eyes. "I thought- I thought you were-"

"I know, I know, honey, shh,"

Gerard stands completely clueless. He has no idea how Jamia and Frank knew each other, or why they were so crazy about seeing each other. When he realises that the churning inside him is jealously, he clamps down on it right away.

"She's like his mom," Mikey murmurs, standing beside him. "They grew up together, she always took care of him. Their parents were so close, they chose to sell their kids together."

"Fuck," And Mikey hums his agreement.

* * *

><p>Jamia takes Frank out to the smoking platform in the garden. Frank's eyes are too blurred with tears to take in the view, not that he cares at this current moment. They sit close together on the brick wall, it's low enough that even Frank's feet touch the floor. Frank huddles closer, and Jamia wraps her arm around his shoulders and tugs gently so he's pressed right against her side. Frank breathes in her smell, she hasn't changed at all, and it feels like a weight has been lifted from him.<p>

"I missed you, Frankie," Jamia sighs, a soft smile on her lips. Frank curls closer and Jamia kisses his forehead.

"I thought you were gone," Frank whispers, sniffing.

"I know, honey." Jamia pauses for a moment, making a quiet thinking noise. "You gotta do something for me, Frankie,"

"What?" Jamia sits up, turning towards Frank and cupping his cheeks.

"Trust Gerard,"

Frank makes a pained expression. "You know I-"

"I know, baby, but you just got to, okay? You won't find any other masters like him, Frankie, he's not going to hurt you. I swear, Frank, you know I wouldn't even tell you this if I didn't mean it."

"Jamia," Frank says, frowning and biting his lip. "You know it's not that easy,"

"I get that, but I just... I just want you to realise that it's okay, you're not gonna be hurt anymore." Jamia leans her forehead on Frank's, sighing and Frank can feel her breath on his chin. She pecks his lips lightly, just a small gesture of affection that Frank's missed so much.

Frank smiles. "Love you, Jam," He murmurs and Jamia grins, pulling him close for a tight hug.


	5. Chapter 5

They sit like that for hours. Curled in close and tucked into each other, shielding away from other intruders. Frank is close to falling asleep on Jamia's shoulder, but he sighs happily and moves closer into her warmth. Everything felt right now, he knew that in time he would trust Mr Way, there was no way that Jamia would lie to him. Even as children when they were sent away together, they'd stuck together and Jamia had been honest with him about everything, sometimes brutally so. And even if Frank didn't end up being happy with Mr Way, he would still have Jamia.

It was odd for him to think about them as children. They'd been so careless and completely clueless as to where they would be shipped off to at nine years old. They spent almost every conscious moment with each other, at school, at their houses, wherever. They were inseparable and still were.

"Remember that time when you told our class that we were twins?" Frank whispers, smiling into Jamia's shoulder.

"Yeah," Jamia giggles, and to an outsider they'd probably think they were. "Fuckin' believed us too,"

They'd fooled their whole class, who had stared at them in amazement in the playground before beginning to point out how similar they actually were. Frank and Jamia had grinned at each other and let them believe it for the rest of the year, until one of Jamia's friends shouted that they had different last names in class. She'd gotten less playtime, it was great.

* * *

><p>When they go back inside, a group of women huddle with them like a flock of sheep. Frank smiles when they say how much Jamia speaks about him, and how much cuter he was in real life. Had they seen pictures of him or had Jamia just told them what he looked like? He would ask her later.<p>

"And you're Italian too, just like Jamia?" Frank nods, blushing as the women sighed dreamily. Jamia elbows him gently, wagging her eyebrows, which makes him giggle. "But of course, Mr Way is taken with you after a couple of days, so we have no chance!" They laugh at that, giggling gleefully as they watched Frank's expression grow confused.

"I don't quite follow you," Frank says.

"Oh gosh," Jamia groans beside him and Frank frowns.

"Mr Way, you see, he doesn't often bring many boys to meet us because he simply doesn't usually date," Alice, one of the younger women whose hair was probably long enough to reach her waist but was currently tied back in a ponytail, says with a knowing smile. "But I suppose you must be different, and he already seems so very taken with you," A few hum and murmur in agreement, but no one speaks.

Frank shrugs. "I wouldn't know,"

"And why's that?"

"I'm concentrating on trying not to get the shit beaten out of me if I do something wrong,"

Jamia sighs, and a few make sympathetic noises. "Oh sweetheart," Alice says softly. "You really haven't met Gerard yet, have you?"

* * *

><p>"I don't see what's so fucking great about him," Gerard mutters as he reads the newspaper article that Mikey has given him, along with a few scraps of paper with notes and pictures. "From what I've heard, he's a fucking asshole,"<p>

Mikey says nothing, but picks out a photo of one of Urie's old workers, it's a young woman with part of her hair ripped out and a split lip. Gerard glares at it, shaking his head.

"I have a few others, but I'm not sure if you should see them…" Mikey says warily, holding the photos in a document folder. Gerard holds his hand out anyway, ignoring his younger brother's warning. "They're fucking bad, Gee," He hands them over with slight hesitation.

Gerard's whole body stiffens as he lines the five photos up. Mikey knows why, he'd done the same the first time he saw them, but he knows this is worse for Gerard.

They were all of Frank. The first was his face, eyes shut against the flash but the bruising around his eyes and cheek are still visible, as is the blood around his mouth and nose. The hand around his neck makes Gerard falter visibly.

The second is Frank being pressed into the floor. His face is only half visible from being face down, but his injuries are the same and there are more bruises on his arms and neck. There's a small puddle of blood beside his mouth, lips open in a cry and cheeks tear stained.

Gerard's eyes widen fully at the third, a choked sound escaping his throat. It's a photo of Frank's back, covered in deep cuts and terrifyingly dark bruises that Gerard can barely see under the blood, wet and dry, smeared across his shoulders and hips. The hand is there again, pressing into his neck.

"How did you get these?" Gerard whispers, giving Mikey an almost frightened glance. The fourth is Frank's hands and wrists, bound together with duct tape around his wrists. From the way the tape is thinned out and the way blood is dried on his arms, it's obvious Frank has been trying to escape.

"I know people," Is all Mikey says, quiet and almost shameful as Gerard stares at the last photo. It takes a minute for Gerard to look at it properly. It's Frank's face again, mouth covered by duct tape, obviously layered to stop Frank from speaking, or from him being heard at all. His face is still stained with blood, from his nose and smeared around his jaw. The flash is on again, it makes his face clearer in the photo but also enhances the fear in his eyes as they stare at the camera lens. They're wide and surprised; fear filling them completely and the tears streaming down his face are a cry for help. Gerard wonders when the photos were taken.

"Jesus fucking Christ," Gerard looks at Mikey, who is looking back with ashamed eyes. "Jesus, fuck." Gerard hangs his head, reaching his hand out to pull the small, metal trashcan over and heave into it, emptying out his breakfast.

"He's here now, though, isn't that what matters, Gee?"

"It'll have to."

Gerard still can't believe that Urie would even do such a thing to anyone, let alone Frank, but he can't stop looking at the photos and then helplessly rubbing his eyes and averting his gaze.


	6. Chapter 6

It takes Frank a couple of weeks to fully settle and make friends – mainly with Jamia's friends, but they still counted – and also get into a routine of waking up in the night from bad dreams and climbing into Mr Way's bed. Not that the older man would question it or refuse the boy, but it still seemed a bit odd.

Not that Gerard would ever admit it, but they did actually have a reasonable amount of sex. It's weird because Gerard keeps telling himself that he needs to slow down, let Frank decide for himself what he wants, but from the way the younger responds and one time even initiated it, he justifies himself and his actions. Mikey will ask about him, and Gerard will give him a short response because unless Frank was in danger, what they did was no one's business but their own.

For Frank it's all still so confusing. He's not used to being treated like a fucking princess, being bought new clothes and eating huge, delicious meals all the time. He was used to barely eating anything in a week, and having clothes that were so old and ragged they'd be considered scraps of cloth.

Still, he isn't going to complain, not once, because he's relaxing into the way of life they all have at Mr Way's brothel and it's easily Frank's favourite place to be. It doesn't even seem like a brothel unless you went into one of the many private rooms, where the sex took place. The main room of the manor just seemed like a ballroom, and Frank liked to spend his time there, alone or with someone or a group of people. It was nice; it was home.

He's still a little scared to fully let his guard down though, so he mainly keeps his thoughts to himself unless Jamia asks to hear them. It isn't often, but when she does ask they sit and talk for hours, sharing thoughts and memories and it always feels like old friends catching up.

He'd grown especially close to Alice, who would always greet him with a gentle hug, never too tight like she somehow knew Frank hated, and they were often found by others huddled together giggling. He felt bad sometimes, like he was leaving Jamia out, but she always insisted it was fine and that she was happy he'd found another friend.

Frank and Alice had an odd friendship. He would never talk about his past or what he'd experienced and neither did she, they kept their conversations light and humorous, mostly making jokes and comments on clients and discussing interests and hobbies. Frank didn't have many, but Alice had a passion for singing and she was good at it too, amazing if anyone asked Frank, but Alice always insisted not to over-praise her or she'd get too big for her own boots. Frank would always shrug and insist that he meant it, but she would shush him and start singing again.

He could listen to her sing for hours, and he did most days. A couple of hours a day where he could get lost in the sweet melodies that Alice created with her voice, he would daydream up a life that he'd never dared to imagine before, but yet it almost seemed possible now. His other self would be rich, he would be the one above everyone else, with everyone working for him and he would earn all the money for his family and even his friends. Jamia would work with him, being at the same status as him and they would be equal. No one would use them; no one could talk down at them or treat them like nothing. They'd be unstoppable.

Although Frank daydreamed of a whole new life, Mr Way would always appear somehow. Whether it'd be an employee or friend – though the most common was boyfriend or husband and that's usually when Frank snaps out of his thoughts – Frank can't seem to get the man off his mind.

It doesn't scare him as much as it should.

* * *

><p>Gerard's never heard someone make sounds like Frank does. Whether it's from the slightest touch and the boy's breath hitches or the cry of Gerard's name when he climaxes, he's never heard anything like it and he doesn't want to ever stop hearing it.<p>

"Please, please," Frank keens, head thrown back against the pillows as Gerard curls his fingers inside of Frank. Gerard licks at his neck, body flush against his. "G-Gerard," Frank gasps whilst tightening his fingers clasped in Gerard's hair, holding him where he was. He's panting for breath, letting out needy whines and hums when Gerard brushes against his prostate. "_Please_, please please,"

"Yeah?" Gerard groans against his neck and Frank whines loudly in response. "Fuck," He laughs, slipping his fingers out, which earns a whimpered protest, and takes no time to hurriedly rip open a condom packet and slide it on himself. He hums slightly, slicking himself with lube and lining himself up. "Frankie?"

Frank's chest is heaving as he pants, and he nods at Gerard as he pulls the older man closer. "C'mon, fuck," Frank gasps into Gerard's mouth. Gerard is slow and careful as he pushes in, and as much as he wants to thrust forward, he takes it slow and lets Frank adjust.

"Frankie?" Gerard asks, pecking Frank's lips until the younger boy opened his eyes and nodded. "You sure?"

"Yeah," Frank breathes and then Gerard pulls out almost all the way and pushes back in, and the feeling is a mix of tight warmth clinging to his cock and the slick wetness of Frank's own hard between them, pre come spread over their stomachs.

Gerard takes Frank in as he thrusts steadily: his eyes clamped shut and head thrown back, mouth open as gasps and whimpers filled the room along with the sound of skin meeting. Gerard can feel his legs tight around his waist, pulling him deeper on each thrust and it makes them both curse.

Neither of them last long. It takes Gerard a few more thrusts of hitting Frank's prostate for the younger to come, back arching as he spurted over their stomachs and Gerard was quick to follow.

Gerard was gently brushing Frank's hair away from his face as they lay next to each other on their sides, Frank's eyes were drooping and Gerard watched with a small smile. The boy's breathing evens out and Gerard sighs, kissing his forehead softly before pulling the covers up over them and moving himself closer to curl an arm over Frank's waist. Frank snuggles into the embrace. Gerard could get used to this.


	7. Chapter 7

Nudity was never a big thing in the brothel. Mostly, men and women walked around in their underwear, their clients probably atleast half-naked. Frank has gradually grown accustomed to it, and even tried it out a few times himself. It's not as bad as he thinks. If he's honest, it's alot easier just to take off one piece of clothing rather than layers and layers.

Frank smirks to himself as he crosses the main room to Gerard's office, glancing over at Jamia and a few of her friends on the sofas. They're grinning at him and Jamia hoots whilst the other women pout, but give him a thumbs-up. He only smiles wider as he knocks.

He hears a faint "come in!" before he enters, and he merely leans against the door with his back, hips pushed forward slightly. Gerard doesn't notice him at first, he's busy quickly scribbling something down, until he glances up and then double-takes. Frank thanks the Gods that he manages to keep a straight face. Gerard clears his throat, loosening his tie as his eyes rake over Frank's body repeatedly.

"You gonna keep staring or are you actually going to do something to me?" Frank asks, a cheeky smile lighting up his face. "'Cause I'm here, and I'm all yours." He almost regrets saying it instantly because it's never been like Frank to be so confident. He's not sure that Gerard minds by the look on his face, but he's still nervous. What if Gerard thinks he's stupid? Or doesn't want him? Maybe he was busy, they couldn't do anything now.

Frank doesn't hear Gerard mumble, but Gerard doesn't need to think twice about it anyway.

"Yeah- yeah, mhm." And Frank bites his lip, still smiling as Gerard stands and moves towards him.

"Here?"

"Here, yep, definitely here," Gerard smiles nervously, holding the others gaze as his hands move around Frank's hips, brushing over the curves of his bones.

"Don't be nervous," Gerard laughs, raising an eyebrow at Frank, his silent _I'm nervous?_. "I can see it in your posture,"

"Because you'd know so much about-"

"I'm going to kiss you now!" Frank exclaims, stretching up on his tip-toes to press his lips against Gerard's. He responds brilliantly, Frank notes when Gerard is flush against him and kissing him like there's no tomorrow. It's sloppy at first, but they quickly gain a pace - slow and deep - and Frank loves it.

"Desk." Gerard pants against his lips, already pulling Frank away from the wall. "Desk. You. Now." And Frank just lets himself be hauled up onto the desktop, kissing Gerard throughout the process. His hands scramble for Gerard's belt, quickly undoing it and popping the button on his slacks. He yanks the shirt out with one hand, some of the buttons rip off but he really doesn't care, the other working on the fucking waistcoat. Gerard pulls away, quickly shrugging out of the shirt along with the waistcoat before stepping out of his trousers. "Sorry, I just-"

"I don't care, just. Fuck, just come here," Gerard dives straight back in, kissing Frank until he's breathless. They lean their foreheads together, and Gerard watches him with slightly hooded eyes.

"Lay back," He murmurs, leaning over Frank to push the papers to the floor carelessly. Frank raises and eyebrow, but follows the soft command. He leans on his elbows, though, and watches Gerard.

"What do you want me to do?" Gerard bites his lip for a moment, eyes eating up the sight before him.

"Touch yourself," Frank nods, laying down fully and lifting his hips up as Gerard pulls off his boxers. His hands are careful at first, tentative as he wraps one around his dick and pumps, his breath hitching in his throat.

"Fuck," He rasps, closing his eyes as he increased the pace, thrusting into his hand every so often. He doesn't even think about Gerard standing at the end of the desk, watching him with hungry eyes. He thinks about Gerard's hands on him, - the thought making him whine and moan - how he would be gentle, but then hard and rough, and it would only turn him on more. His other hand finds it's way further between his legs, rubbing the rim of his hole for a few moments before pushing inside and he curses loudly.

He adds a second finger, scissoring and stroking inside himself, hips bucking to their own accord, other hand still working on his dick. "Gerard," He gasps, back arching a little.

"Jesus, fuck, Frank," Gerard's voice is choked and raw, and Frank doesn't look at him. "You're so fucking hot, fuck," Frank whines, curling his fingers.

"Oh fuck, shit," He releases with a strangled cry, come covering his hand and lower stomach. His breaths are ragged as he winds down, feeling worn out and aching, but still having a soft buzz all over. "Oh God, shit, Gerard? Gee, are you-"

"Yeah, fuck, yeah I-" Frank barely notes Gerard wiping his hands on something.

"You totally just got off to that, _fuck_, you fucking jerked off," Frank laughs, because fuck, if he hadn't just come, he would definitely be hard again. And Gerard _got off_ watching him.

Gerard doesn't say anything, simply smiles shyly and grabs Frank's hand's to pull him upright and curl his arms around his body. Frank loves Gerard's embrace, the way his arms feel around him, safe and secure.

"Will you sit with me for a while?" Gerard asks timidly, almost as if he was scared of the answer.

"Yes, of course," Frank's not entirely sure why Gerard was asking, because really, Frank couldn't say no.

They move over to where the leather chair behind the desk is. Gerard's hand is holding Frank's so tightly that he thinks it might just fall off or something. Gerard's clothes are rumpled and barely done up, whereas Frank is just in his boxers, a few little flakes of dried come on his stomach. Both of their hair's are can only be described as bird's nests. But fuck it, they don't actually care at this moment in time. Gerard shifts in the chair until he's comfortable and then pulls Frank onto his lap, immediately curling his arms around the younger man and holding him close with Frank's head tucked under his chin.

They sit in silence, their breathing the only sound and it's comfortable. They breathe in each others presence, bathing in the other's company. There's words on the tip of Gerard's tongue, he wants to say something but he doesn't know what. He decides to just keep silent, as Frank has done for the past few minutes.

"Do you think we'd have met if I wasn't a slave?" Frank asks quietly, fingertips brushing along Gerard's collarbone.

"I'm not sure," Gerard murmurs back, nosing at Frank's hair and then under his ear. Frank smiles, giggling quietly and shaking his head quickly to swat Gerard away. "But I know that I'm glad you're here right now."

Frank moves closer to the older man, couting Gerard's heartbeat as it pounded into his ear. "Me too," Frank whispers and Gerard nearly misses it, but his stomach twists with an unknown feeling nonetheless.


	8. Chapter 8

When Frank sleeps in Gerard's bed, he rarely wakes from nightmares - and if he does he can usually fall back into slumber after he's curled into the older man's side - but tonight is a different situation completely.

There's hands around Frank's neck, squeezing and pressing down. He's trying to scream; cry for help or push them off of him, but he can't. His vision is vague, blurred and even when he squints it's just as bad. His hands won't seem to move and no one is stopping the figure above him. What's happening to him? The last thing he remembers is Gerard's body fitting against his from behind, and then his breaths evening out. When did the sanctuary of Gerard's room become his own hell?

The figure is speaking now. Echoing in and out of his ears like waves; quiet and then suddenly loud, but then gone. Frank tries to figure out the words, it's a question they're asking but Frank still can't understand a single word.

The waves move in his ears again, before silence and then a face and-

"You miss me, Frankie?"

He jolts awake with a choked gasp, scrambling to sit up and scratch crazily at his neck. The room is complete darkness, and he can feel his skin scratching open from his nails. His breaths are ragged, the panic still flowing through him as his hands shake. He rubs them over his face.

"Jesus, fuck," He mutters, sliding to the edge of the bed and letting his feet hit the cool floor. He rests his elbows on his knees for a moment, his head held in his hands.

He doesn't notice Gerard stirring behind him, and the older man watches as Frank runs shaking fingers of the deep scars that curve over his shoulder. After a moment Frank stands, carefully moving towards the door across the room and disappearing through it. A light flicks on in the hall and that's when Gerard quietly gets up to follow him.

In the kitchen Frank is trying to blink back the tears in his eyes, still scrubbing at his neck, making it furiously red. He lets out a shaky breath, closing his eyes for a moment.

He takes a glass from the counter, which is waiting to be cleaned but it's not visibly dirty and he knows it hasn't been there long. Plus he's drunk and eaten off of far worse, so this is considered a luxury. Drinking out of a glass is a luxury in itself.

With the glass gripped between his trembling fingers, he turns around towards the sink. Gerard is stood in the doorway, lent against the frame and watching the young man silently. Frank lets out a surprised yelp, the glass immediately dropping from his hands to shatter into pieces on the tiled floor. Frank stares at the man for a moment before dropping to his knees and beginning to quickly pick up the shards of glass.

"I'm sorry, shit I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to," Frank says hurriedly, words rushing into one breath. "You made me jump, I'm sorry-" He gasps for air, the tears on his cheeks unnoticed. By now, Gerard is crouched on the other side of the main lumps of glass, grabbing for Frank's wrists. Once he gets them, Frank flinches back with a jerk of his shoulders. "P-please don't hurt me, I'm sorry, please," He begs, and Gerard softens the grip.

"You're hurting yourself," He says gently, "Don't move your hands." He stands and steps over the glass, putting a hand on Frank's shoulder, careful to avoid his scars that he knows Frank hates him even seeing. He leads Frank to the bathroom and sits him on the edge of the bathtub, gathering a wash cloth, tweezers and gauze before kneeling in front of the boy.

"I'm sorry," Frank says without looking at him. "You just- You scared me, I didn't mean to-"

"It's fine," Gerard interrupts with a soft smile. "It was an accident, and I shouldn't have snuck up on you like that, so it's my fault." He ignores the way Frank stares at him like he's crazy. "This might sting a little, but I need to get the glass out," He proceeds to pick the smaller pieces of glass from Frank's palms, hushing him soothingly whenever he flinched or hissed. He wipes them with the wet wash cloth before drying and wrapping them in the gauze.

"Thank you," The young man says timidly, idly poking at the edges of the gauze.

Gerard smiles again, murmuring, "It's fine, lemme see your neck."

Frank tenses as Gerard touches his neck, barely-there brushes with his fingertips as he examines the scratches of blunt nails.

"It looks worse than it is," Gerard mutters, more to himself, before wetting the cloth with warm water again and gently soaking Frank's neck. He holds down a laugh as the younger sighs, closing his eyes and letting his neck arch up a little bit.

He pretends not to notice when Frank untenses and leans into his touch.

* * *

><p>It snows the next night. It falls heavily, covering the ground and everything surrounding in thick layers, and Frank and Gerard watch from the balcony window. It's long, one whole side of Gerard's apartment, and the snow covers the cement just a few metres outside. The heating's up high, and they huddle under a blanket together. Gerard sits cross-legged, and Frank curls up in his lap, head tucked under the older man's chin.<p>

"I've never seen it snow before," Frank says quietly, sighing softly when Gerard kisses behind his ear and moves down his neck.

It's almost like a bubble. Locked away in Gerard's apartment, their own world together, everyone else oblivious. In that moment, it was about them. The snow patters against the windows, a quiet background noise to accommodate the silence.

"We can make a snowman tomorrow," Gerard whispers with a grin, and Frank matches it.

"What about a snow woman?" Gerard chuckles and Frank can feel his smile on his skin.

"Anything you want, Frankie," He says, quiet and shy, and Frank snuggles closer to him.

For a while there's silence. Frank inhales deeply, linking his fingers with Gerard's as the other man's spare hand brushed over his hip.

"You wanna go out there?" Gerard asks, smiling like a child at the younger man. "We could make a snowman and woman now,"

Frank stares. "You seriously want to?"

"Why the hell not!" Gerard laughs, and Frank grins. They get up and put warmer clothes on, as well as coats, scarves and gloves. "Gotta keep you warm," Gerard reminds Frank as he pulls a beanie hat over the boy's head, pecking his lips quickly before opening the door. It's almost four in the morning, so nobody is in the lobby, not even the receptionist. They must be on a break.

The cold hits them fast, and it makes Gerard shudder, but Frank only bounces on his feet. Gerard reminds himself that this is Frank's first time even _seeing snow_, let alone being out in it. He takes Frank's hand, who smiles at him with a glint in his eye. This seems to be the first time Gerard's seen him truly happy.

After leading him to a street a few minutes away, the first thing Frank does is pick up a handful of snow and try to mold it into a ball. With the state his hands are still in, he fails and ends up making it lumpy and too odd shaped to throw well.

"C'mere," Gerard says, taking the lump from his hands and cupping his own so it shapes right. Frank smiles as he rolls it into his open palms. Frank tries not to touch it too much because he doesn't want it to get destroyed, but Gerard laughs and makes a snowball of his own. "You can throw it, or we can start making them bigger and make our snow-"

And then Frank's kissing him. Frank leans up and captures his lips, one hand cupping his jaw, and when Gerard pushes back he opens his mouth and greets Gerard's tongue with his own. The older man is unsure where this burst of confidence came from, but he gladly drops his snowball and rests his hands on Frank's lower back as he pulls him in closer.

They stumble for a moment, lips detaching with a wet sound and Frank doesn't meet the other man's eyes even when he can feel his burning gaze. Frank's cheeks are warm, from the cold but more so his scarlet blush, and Gerard can feel the heat on his lips as he presses them gently to his cheek.

"Frank?"

"I wanted to thank you," The boy murmurs to the floor. "For last night, with my hands,"

"Frank," Gerard says again, but now with a hint of sympathy. It makes Frank feel worse. "You don't have to thank me, not like that, I just-"

"You helped me and I have to make up for that, because you shouldn't be helping me when it was my fault." Frank says bitterly, twisting his hands angrily. "You shouldn't be helping _me_ at all."

Gerard says nothing as he leads them back inside, and Frank doesn't sleep in the older man's bed that night. Or the many weeks that follow.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: This is hideously short, I'm really sorry.

* * *

><p>Gerard sighs for what seems the hundredth time that day. It seemed like everyone was out to ruin his day, as if he wasn't still feeling terrible from what happened with Frank.<p>

They hadn't spoken in weeks. Well, Frank hadn't spoken to him. He'd tried to, but the only responses he got were muted shakes of the head.

He didn't know why Frank ignoring him affected his moods so much. Workers had ignored him before, although they eventually came around and warmed to Gerard, but it'd never taken longer than a week. Maybe it was because he and Frank were so sexually involved with each other, but Gerard couldn't help but think that for him it could possibly be something different.

The thought scares him. He's never had feelings for an employee, but did he really classify Frank as an employee? That was a definite no, no doubt about it.

But that didn't answer why he felt so... lost. It was like being abandoned in the middle of nowhere, no map or way of contacting someone. He was walking over a land mine field, waiting to be blown to pieces.

He's grown so accustomed to always having Frank near him, actually being to talk to him and hear his voice reply - relevant to the subject or not - directly to him. He'd thought they'd been making progress to Frank trusting him and now look at what he'd done.

Frank had spent all of his time at the brothel with either Jamia and her friends or Alice. He knew when he was being avoided and this was a prime example. He wasn't offended, not as much as he supposed he should've been. He knew that Frank just needed time to calm down - if it was anger that he was feeling towards Gerard - or at least let him explain what he should have on that night many weeks before.

* * *

><p>Mikey visits Gerard mid-week, which is unusual but not unwelcome and Gerard takes any time with his brother that he can get.<p>

When he enters the office he doesn't knock, he knows that he wouldn't be walking in on something he shouldn't as he knew the situation with Frank; Gerard kept him updated almost everyday with moody voicemails and texts.

Mikey wasn't worried, not in the sense of fearing what his brother would do, more so with how Frank would be around him if they never sorted this out. He knew Frank barely spoke when he'd first arrived in fear of being punished, but would it get worse?

Gerard smiles at him from across the desk, but it doesn't reach his eyes. Mikey raises an eyebrow in question and the older man shakes his head with a sigh.

"What are you going to do?" Mikey asks, watching as Gerard's shoulders slump.

"I don't know," He replies miserably. "Whenever I walk into a room, he walks out!" His tone becomes frustrated and he buries his head into his hands.

"Gee," Mikey says quietly.

"Don't, Mikey,"

Mikey sighs, but carries on anyway. "You need to talk to him. Or get Jamia to, you know he'll half-listen to her, but I think it needs to come from you."

"I'd have to explain everything," Gerard says, his voice scared, and Mikey's mind flashes; crying, retching, flashing blue lights.

"If that's what it takes," Mikey murmurs, "And if you want him to know, then you tell him everything,"

"What if he hates me?"

Mikey closes his eyes and breathes out. "Then we'll talk to Jamia, but only as a last resort."

Gerard nods. "Okay," He whispers, then pauses to regain his composure. "Thanks, Mikey," He smiles and his younger brother returns it.


	10. Chapter 10

The city looks beautiful from the balcony. Frank is curled up in the one-seater with a blanket thrown over him. He stares blankly at the sparkling lights from buildings across from him. In the tower of apartments across the street he can see a light flicker on and two people stumble through a door.

They're laughing as they pull each other closer, mouths attaching and Frank has to look away. He frowns at his lap.

It's late, well past two in the morning, but Frank hasn't been able to sleep for days. His head aches and his eyes sting at the cold air. It doesn't fade even as he blinks.

He wonders if Gerard can't sleep either. Maybe he stayed up until the early hours of the next morning, plagued by cruel thoughts. Frank wants to ask him. He wants to crawl into his bed and curl around him, fall asleep to his voice softly whispering sweet things into the night. He wants to feel safe.

Behind him, the balcony door slides open. Frank freezes.

"Frank?" Gerard's voice croaks from the doorway. Frank relaxes quickly, but doesn't turn towards him. "Frankie, can we talk?" He's closer this time, sitting on the other chair that's beside Frank's. Frank nods.

"What about?" Frank mutters.

"I need to tell you a story." Frank raises an eyebrow. "About me. About how I got the brothel and why I treat my employee's like I do."

Frank nods, glancing at him; he's sat with his legs tucked under him, hands fidgeting nervously in his lap.

Gerard tells him of his privileged childhood, of the times with his mother and how she was caring, but his father was very aloof - much like himself - and often never spent much time with him or his brother when they visited. The times that they did share haunted Gerard.

He tells Frank how much of his high school life was spent being shoved into walls and kicked until he bled. Although he'd never told anyone but Mikey. Frank makes a quiet, sympathetic noise.

Gerard is quiet for a few moments until he begins speaking again, this time quieter.

"When I was nineteen, my father died." Frank looks directly at him, but the other man seems to not notice or react to it. "Even though we were never close, it devastated me. I lost it. I was spending my days drinking, only to add drugs to the mess. I lost everyone, apart from Mikey. He was so scared and still grieving for his own loss, yet he was always there looking after me and cleaning up my mess."

"Gerard, I-"

"I'm an alcoholic. I was admitted to rehab for a few months after I almost killed myself." Gerard pauses for a moment, thinking of the wretched sobs that'd been coming from himself and Mikey, the calm but firm voices of the paramedics in the ambulance. "I've been sober for one year, eight months and twenty-three days. I don't even take painkillers for headaches." He takes a breath. "When I was stable enough to inherit the brothel, which I had no say in - being firstborn I had no choice but to take over my father's place. He didn't treat people like I do. I don't know exactly how horrible he was, but I can imagine he might've been similar to some of the assholes around now."

"But why are you not like them?" Frank asks in a whisper, heart thumping in his ears. He'd never wanted to hold someone as much as he wanted to hold Gerard in that moment.

Gerard stares out across the city, letting out a long breath. "I couldn't treat people the way I'd been treated."

"I don't.. What?"

"My father.. He would-" Gerard looks away, hands fisted so hard in his lap that his nails would probably leave indents.

It suddenly clicks. "Oh god, Gerard.." Frank murmurs, standing up to move closer to the older man who seemed years younger at the pained expression on his face.

Frank leans down and takes Gerard's hand, who then tugs him forward until he sits on his lap. Frank wraps his arms around the other's shoulders, pulling him close until his head was in Frank's neck.

"I try to forget," Gerard chokes out, breaths stuttering and Frank realises he's crying. "But I just _can't_! They won't go away," Frank hums, running his fingers through Gerard's soft hair, rocking him gently.

"He's gone now, he can't hurt you anymore," Frank whispers.

"I'm not scared of him," Gerard says suddenly, voice stuttering. "I- I'm scared of Urie. If he ever found a way to get you, I... I don't know what I'd do."

"I don't understand, Gerard.."

Gerard cups his face, pulling it forward so their noses touched. "I can't lose you, Frankie, not now.. Not now that I know how much I want you to stay with me. We may not be the most functional people, but together we could be so strong, y'know?"

"What are you saying?" Frank asks, eyes glittering in the moonlight.

"Frank, I.. I'm afraid I've fallen for you.. Much more than I thought I ever would for anyone. Not only do I want to keep you safe, but I want to be with you every moment I can. I want to take you out and," He pauses to smile, laughing to himself. "And take you on dates and show you off!" He looks Frank in the eyes as he says, "Frankie, would you give me a chance? Please.. I just want.. Please?"


	11. Chapter 11

The first date Gerard takes Frank on is incredibly awkward. Frank is quiet, submissive whilst Gerard acts like they've never met - let alone done things his mother would gasp at. They go to a fancy restaurant, Gerard reserved a secluded table and they sit in silence until their food arrives. Frank had no idea what anything was - he simply couldn't read the names, not that he'd admit it - so Gerard ordered for him. Gerard opens his mouth a few times as if he was going to start a conversation, but after looking at Frank's hunched, stiff shoulders, he decides against it.

For Frank, it feels like his throat is closing up. He keeps his eyes on his plate, taking slow, steady breaths to stop himself from having a panic attack. He can feel Gerard's eyes on him, watching his every move.

"Frank?" He looks up at the other man. "Would you like to leave?" Frank swallows, then nods quickly. Gerard leaves money on the table, and stands as Frank does. As they leave, he wraps his arm around the younger man's waist and holds onto him. Frank immediately leans into him, letting out a ragged breath. He's still not used to being in public.

They get back to Gerard's place not long later, and Frank sits on the couch (and totally _doesn't_ sulk) whilst the other man gets Frank a glass of water.

"'M sorry," Frank mutters. He feels so stupid. He knows Gerard only wants to treat him like a human being, but Frank hasn't seen himself as one since he was a child. After everything, how could he possibly see himself as anything more than dirt? Gerard meant well, Frank knows this, but it was just so difficult to really believe it.

"It's fine, Frank." Gerard smiles sympathetically. "I.. I'm gonna go to bed, okay? If you, y'know, want to come too you can, but you don't if you don't want to, okay? Please don't feel pressured, I just-"

"I get it," Frank says, mouth pulling up on one side into a small smile. Gerard nods and takes Frank's hand, squeezing it before standing and disappearing to his room.

Frank sighs to himself. What the hell was wrong with him?

* * *

><p>At three in the morning, Frank wakes, gasping into the silence of his small room.<em> Nightmares again<em>, he thinks. He stares at the ceiling for a while, contemplating going to Gerard's room as he'd rather not sleep alone. He closes his eyes, taking a long breath before climbing out of his bed and tip-toeing down the hall to the older man's room.

He taps gently on the open door, "Gerard?" he whispers, hands then hugging his own small frame. When Gerard mumbles and sits up, the sheet slips to his hips, revealing his bare chest. Frank inhales deeply again.

Frank doesn't say a word, but Gerard just smiles softly through his sleep haze and pulls the sheets open on the other side.

"It's okay, Frank," Gerard whispers, reaching his hand out when Frank hesitates by the edge of the bed.

Frank ends up gripping onto the older man, arms around his chest. Gerard holds onto him tightly, closing his eyes at the sounds of Frank crying.

"Please don't make me go back to him," Frank sobs, shaking his head.

"Frank-"

"I want to stay here with you! Please, please don't send me back, I'll do anything, I swear!"

"Frank, look at me," He was getting hysterical now, his entire body shaking with sobs. "_Frank_, look at me."

Frank glances up, taking a deep breath through trembling lips. Gerard cups his face, wiping his tears before placing a small kiss on his forehead.

"You're not going back to him. Ever. Even if it means giving him every cent I have, you won't go back."

"Promise me?" Frank stammered, eyes wide-open and afraid, almost like he was a baby seeing the world for the first time. Gerard nods. "Say it," Frank chokes out. He needs to know, truly, if Gerard means it. If he really did plan on keeping Frank, it would change everything for him.

"I promise, Frank,"

Frank nods. "Okay."

* * *

><p>Frank wakes to the sound of singing. Confused, he sits up in bed and squints at the sunlight streaming into the room. Gerard's room. Gerard's bed. Last night floods into his mind, and Frank is suddenly filled with embarrassment. God, he'd made such a fool of himself. He bites his lip worryingly at the thought of facing the older man. He probably thought Frank was pathetic.<p>

The singing gets louder, and Frank realises it's Gerard singing, most likely from the kitchen, and that it's getting closer to the room. He looks up to the doorway, blushing furiously red when Gerard shuffles into the room with a tray of breakfast.

"Hey," Gerard says gently, sitting beside Frank on his side of the bed. "I made breakfast."

Frank looks up briefly. "Thanks," He says as Gerard sits the tray between them.

They eat quietly, Gerard almost devouring a bacon sandwich and Frank slowly nibbling on egg and toast.

"So, uh, Jamia asked if you wanted to go out today, if you'd like. Shopping, or something. I figured you'd want to pick your own clothes." Frank nods. Did Jamia have money? Did Gerard pay her for the work she did? Maybe it was Gerard's money. Frank wouldn't be surprised.

They finish breakfast in an awkward silence, which Frank is a little grateful for. It's been a few days since he's seen Jamia, so he's excited to spend the day with her.

He gets up when Gerard leaves the room with the tray, shutting the door quietly behind him. Frank holds back a deep sigh. He hopes he can get past his own problems so that he and Gerard could work. It wasn't that he didn't want Gerard, but he'd never been in a relationship before. He had so much to deal with before he could put himself in that position.

Frank dresses in jeans, a shirt and a jumper. It was mid December and so it was only getting colder with each passing day. Frank used to hate winter, before all this. He hated living in a damp, dirty cell, being lucky to eat every few days - if at all. He hated having to lay on a damp, concrete floor that was painted with his blood, and several other people's bodily fluids. He hated how the days passed by at a horrifically slow pace. He hated how he would have to suffer when he got sick, with the coughs, the fevers, the wavering in and out of consciousness. He hated how he always survived.

He shakes himself out of his thoughts when the door opens and Jamia's voice floods in. "You ready, Frankie?" He turns and smiles at her. She smiles back.

"Yeah, let me just get my shoes on."


	12. Chapter 12

Malls are weird. Frank decides this after he witnesses two women screech at an employee for not having their sizes in an ugly blouse; the poor girl had to have only been a little older than him. He had wanted to say something, to stand up for her because it wasn't her fault, but he didn't have the guts nor would Jamia have let him.

They'd trawled through stores of every kind. Shops with smart suits, casual jeans and t-shirts, plus all kinds of shoes and accessories. Even thrift stores. Frank's feet were aching and his eyes burned at every new onslaught of fluorescent lights and trashy background music. He longed to be back at Gerard's apartment, sprawled out on the huge sofa and watching a movie. With Gerard, but he didn't want to say that out loud just yet.

They had bags from most of the stores they'd been to. Frank hadn't heard of any of the brand names, and didn't even want to think about the cost. He knew Gerard was most likely paying for them.

The clothes that Jamia had picked out were reasonably similar. Lots of jeans, tees, polos, cardigans and jumpers, with a few suits for occasions that Frank didn't know of. Jamia kept calling him "her little punk", but he didn't know what she meant by that so he'd just roll his eyes at her and she would grin happily. Frank had actually had a really fun day, apart from feeling extremely nervous at first because of all the people, but after seeing that no one was paying any attention to him at all he'd felt a lot more relaxed.

Gerard had arranged a car with a driver who mostly did security work at the brothel and Jamia seemed to know him well as they chatted through the rolled-down screen. Frank kept quiet and instead stared out of the window, taking in the city he had lived in since he was nine, yet barely knew at all. He had seen some streets at night, darkened by broken street lamps and abandoned blocks of flats and houses, but nothing ever more than that.

His past sticks in his mind. Plaguing his thoughts; his dreams. He hasn't slept well in weeks, even after spending the night before with Gerard he still woke up multiple times during the night. He wondered when it would end. When he could begin living like a normal human being. Frank almost scoffs at the word. Who could define normal? People dealt with all kinds of shitty things their entire lives, so how could Frank complain? But still, spending the past eleven years the way he had been forced to was in no way the norm. Frank can only imagine the reactions he would get if he ever told people everything that he had been put through.

His neck and back itch at the thought. He shrugs it off, huffing to himself. He needed to stop getting so caught up in thinking about it all. That was hard to do when he had no motivation for the future. Most people didn't realise that focusing on the past was all he had ever done, comparing it to things and making himself feel guilty for ever wanting anything more than the hell his abusers had told him he had deserved.

He's jolted from his thoughts when Jamia pokes his arm as she gets out of the car; they were back at Gerard's apartment. Frank grins to himself, climbing out the car quickly before composing himself and acting casual. If Jamia knew how much he'd been anticipating being back with Gerard, she'd tease him relentlessly.

The driver helps them upstairs with the bags, squeezing into the small elevator up to their floor and bringing in Frank's bags that he puts down to get out his door key.

Frank smells food straight away, possibly something spicy. He grins and makes his way to the lounge, dumping all the bags on the sofa and then making his way to the kitchen. Gerard's back is turned, stirring something on the electric oven hob. Maybe it was a stir fry, Frank wasn't sure.

"Did you have a nice day?" Gerard asks, looking over with a smile.

Frank nods. "Yeah, it was fun," He manages a small smile back. Baby steps.

Gerard turns around after a few seconds pass, and gestures for Frank to go back into the living room. The older man goes through one of the bags, peering at t-shirts and polos, humming approvingly. Frank bites back a smile; he wants to go over to Gerard and kiss him, perhaps for a while - the thought of it makes him feel embarrassed but it also pleasantly warms his face. Plus Jamia was still in the apartment and he doubted she'd appreciate Frank almost jumping Gerard, which was still something he refused to say out loud.

When Gerard looks over at him again, holding up a slightly oversized long-sleeved shirt that had red sleeves, the rest of it white with a large capital 'F' on the top right, he's grinning and shaking his head with a fond look in his eyes. Gerard knows it'll look perfect. There's another shirt the same size with a simple black and white horizontal stripe pattern.

Gerard serves up dinner - stir fry, Frank had guessed correctly - and the three of them sit together at the four seater dining table, Frank and Jamia next to each other with the two men opposite. Frank peeks up a few times, blushing madly when he often finds Gerard already watching him. The older man always smiles to himself.

Frank walks Jamia to the door after, and she clutches his arm as he opens the door. She's grinning, and may be a little tipsy.

"I expect details tomorrow, Frankie!" She exclaims, somehow smiling even wider at Frank's confused look.

"About what?" He asks, looking almost concerned. Jamia's expression softens slightly, and she hugs Frank close.

"I only want you to be happy, Frankie, I love you, okay?" Frank smiles a little, letting out a small laugh. He finally understood what she meant.

"Of course I know that, now go home, you're drunk." Jamia laughs loudly, kissing his cheek before disappearing out the door. Frank still wonders why they're best friends sometimes, but reminds himself that she's basically his mother and sister rolled into one.

He makes his way into the living room where Gerard is sat on the sofa with his legs propped up on the coffee table, absently flicking through TV channels. He pats the spot beside him with a small smile when Frank appears in the doorway.

"You wanna finish Batman?"

They sit together, Frank scooting close to the other man so that his side was pressed against him, and Gerard has to awkwardly put his arm around Frank so that they're both more comfortable. Frank doesn't mind. He may or may not have done it deliberately. Frank tries not to smirk to himself, he doesn't want let on that he totally knows what he's doing and that it's all he's been thinking about and planning for a few days, almost a week. He hasn't even told Jamia or Alice what he's doing but they had both assumed from how much he hadn't stopped talking about Gerard that the older man was on his mind.

There's silence for a while, Gerard seemingly totally engrossed in the film that he's seen plenty of times. On the other hand, Frank is quickly glancing back and forth between the screen and Gerard's face. Did he just do it or wait for Gerard to see him? Or let Gerard instigate it? He was slightly regretting deciding to do this tonight.

Eventually Gerard glances over at him, an eyebrow raised. "What?" He asks, voice soft and smooth like silk. Frank decides to just go for it. He smiles a little, confidence jumping when Gerard returns it, even if it is slightly confused. When Frank starts to lean in, Gerard seems to realise what he's doing and his eyes widen a little, but still focus on Frank's lips. Frank pecks the other's lips once, just simple and experimental, and they both try to be discreet about how they lick their lips before pressing forward again, the kiss more explorative this time as Gerard's hands cup Frank's face, the young man making a slight desperate noise as his hands rested on Gerard's chest so that he could pull himself closer. Gerard decides not to push the boundaries too far just yet, keeping the kiss mildly innocent and gently pulling away after a what feels like no way near long enough.

Frank pants lightly, staring open-mouthed at Gerard's wet, shiny lips. He was so glad that was out of the way, but now he had no idea what to say. He brings his eyes up to meet Gerard's, who still looks slightly shocked by what just happened, but he begins to smile a little and Frank does the same.


	13. Chapter 13

Frank has been studying the ceiling for a good twenty minutes. It's still the same ivory colour that it's always been, perfectly untouched and clean with no marks or anything out of the ordinary. It was just a ceiling, but Frank was hoping for something a bit more interesting for him to take his mind off his thoughts.

Brendon Urie. That was the only thing to be in his head in the past few hours after kissing Gerard. Urie and his men, laughing and taunting, making him feel like scum and guilty for enjoying what he and Gerard had shared. He knew it didn't matter anymore, that his previous life was behind him and that moving on should be so easy now that he was safe and happier, but all he could think of was all the things they'd done to him for most of his life. He was dirty and disgusting, so why would Gerard ever want him.

It was thoughts like that that had him lying awake as Gerard snored lightly next to him, one arm thrown over Frank's stomach, his breaths puffing into Frank's neck. It was somewhat of a comfort, but not enough to stop Frank's mind from wandering.

Frank wanted Gerard. In every sense; to be next to him, on top of him, all out consumed by him. He wanted anything and everything to do with Gerard, but why would the older man ever want him? It was something he'd never understand or even believe

_You're a dirty, little whore, Frankie. You're _my_ whore. Forever._

He refrains from flinching.

He lays awake for the rest of the night.

* * *

><p>When light begins to slip through the blinds and cast over Frank in stripes, he stares towards the window for a moment, then at Gerard, who's still asleep. He'll be awake soon though, Frank knows this. He always wakes when the sun rises, unable to sleep through any kind of lighting.<p>

Frank decides to study Gerard until he wakes up. Gerard was only in his late twenties, Frank guessed about twenty-seven, and his skin was pale and smooth, apart from the small, red mark under his left eye. Some of his dark, shaggy hair currently fell over his eyes, the rest sticking upwards at different directions. Frank could smell the flowery shampoo he'd used, and it makes him grin to himself.

Frank rolls onto his side, grateful for the warmth of Gerard's arm on his waist. He brings one of his arms up and brushes Gerard's cheekbones with his fingertips, sighing quietly. This man was truely gorgeous.

Gerard hums, almost silently, and it makes Frank jump. He squeaks, snatching his hand back like Gerard's face was a spider's nest. The older man blinks repeatedly as he opens his eyes, squinting slightly in the sunlight. God, he hated mornings. Finally, his eyes focus on Frank, wide eyed and blushing.

"Morning," Gerard says through a yawn, his arm still much like a hot water bottle on Frank's body.

Frank smiles tensely at him, only appearing to relax when Gerard moves closer and presses his lips to the other's forehead, fingers a little sweaty on Frank's skin under the sheets.

"Did you sleep well?" Gerard asks, and by the worried tone in his voice Frank knows that Gerard can tell he didn't sleep well, if at all.

Frank shrugs. "I'm used to not sleeping very much." Which was true, before Gerard he'd spent most nights in far too much pain to even think of sleeping, and often wished he'd pass out from the overwhelming torture. And now he spent most nights awake, terrified by the memories. Frank smiles again, a little better at faking it now, and Gerard returns it before rolling over and getting out of bed.

"Get ready whilst I make some breakfast, yeah? We'll go down to the manor early." Frank nodded. It always confused Frank when the other man referred to the brothel as a manor, because calling it a manor inferred that it was merely a house that many people lived in. It didn't tell anyone that it was actually a place where people paid to have sex with other people who had been most likely treated terribly for most of their lives. Gerard probably called it that to prevent his own guilt. Frank could understand that.

Frank showers quickly, emerging from their - or was it still just Gerard's? - bedroom in his new 'F' shirt, loose, light blue jeans and one of Gerard's black zip-up hoodies.

Gerard notices Frank wearing his hoodie straight away, and it feels like a kick in the teeth, but the best kind. His chest gets a little tight and he doesn't know what to do with himself, so he keeps quiet and continues to watch over the pancakes cooking whilst fleetingly sipping from his scalding cup of coffee.

Frank makes him feel... something unexplainable. If he could put it into words, it'd be something so cheesy and cliche it'd make any romantic cringe

He also knows that if he told Frank just how much he felt for him it'd scare him away. There was no way he'd ever been in a normal relationship before; Gerard knew he had to take the emotional side of it slow, otherwise Frank would get overwhelmed.

They both eat quietly, the radio playing quietly as background noise, and Frank keeps his head down, unsure where to look.

Gerard wishes he could look at the young man all day. Frank was beautiful. His hair was longer now, almost reaching his shoulders and curling at the ends slightly. He was always tucking it behind his ears, Gerard had worked out that it was a nervous tick he'd gathered as his hair had grew.

Frank had also put on a little weight. Still not quite enough for him to be of average, healthy weight, but clothes fit him a lot better now, and his skin had a healthy glow to it. Frank could admit he wasn't used to looking so... alive, for lack of a better word, but he liked his body now, especially if Gerard did too.

As they leave the apartment, Frank takes a deep breath and grabs Gerard's hand, pleasantly surprised when the older man smiles at him and squeezes his hand. Neither of them let go until they reach the brothel.

Frank hadn't taken note of the journey to the manor previously; unaware that it was slightly out of the city, the apartment being on the outskirts anyway. The car whips past a few miles of trees, until a winding road off the main street leads up to the large building. How did he miss this before?

Regardless, he's grown to love the manor. Inside, the large main room has soft sofas and the constant aroma of coffee - most likely from the kitchen at the end of a hall leading off or Gerard's office - which made it feel almost homey; like he was seven years-old again in the blistering summer heat of Italy, yet his father was still drinking coffee. It kept him alive, so he always said. It made everything in the house stink of it, but in the best way.

Frank tries not to think of his childhood. His mother was cold and hateful, appearing to have no time for her only son and always focused on money and how she could make more. Not for her family, but for herself. Frank learnt that the word selfish is what described her.

But his father had been loving, devoting all of his free time to Frank, playing with him and teaching him, gaining life fulfilment from watching his son grow. He loved his wife, they had been childhood sweethearts, but he could see that she had grown bitter and so he tried his best to keep that from Frank. He never wanted him to be like her.

He'd had no say in selling Frank. He wasn't even aware of it until his wife told him of all the money she'd earned from shipping her son across the Atlantic Ocean to men she didn't know, but was fully aware of the life Frank was being forced into. He'd gone crazy, screaming and crying at her; her _son! _The one she had carried for nine months, bonding with him and giving birth, a child wholly her own. She had ignored most of the insults thrown her way, and even seemed dismissive when he became aggressive and pinned her to the wall by her throat. He'd snapped out of it quickly, even regretted it, but he still hated her with every inch in his entire being.

Frank didn't know how his parents were now, if they were together or even alive. He wondered if they still acted like he existed as he frowned at his lap.

He attempts to shake himself out of it, push it to the back of his mind with the rest of his past, but he's never been lucky enough. It constantly seemed like the world was out to rip away anything good from his life.

He just hoped it wouldn't take away Gerard.


End file.
